


i'm struggling to exist with you (and without you)

by epilogues



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Holding Hands, Light Angst, M/M, Undefined Relationship, uh. idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:23:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epilogues/pseuds/epilogues
Summary: “Would you run away with me?”





	i'm struggling to exist with you (and without you)

**Author's Note:**

> have another thirty minute fic lmao i. don't plan these they just kinda write themselves? idk i hope u enjoy this even tho it's super short!! (also it's one am so. feel free to yell at me abt typos)
> 
> fun fact if u want a good song to listen to while reading this i'd really recommend home by michael callen uwu

“Pete? What are you doing up here?”

Pete shrugs, swinging his legs out over the street below. “Thinking, I guess. I’m not trying to jump, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Patrick steps off of the ladder and onto the roof and studies Pete carefully. “Are you sure?”

“What, do you want me to be trying to jump?” Pete asks. He turns his head just enough to raise an eyebrow at Patrick. The could’ve-been joke falls flat into the space between them. 

“Of course not, dumbass,” Patrick says, but his brow furrows. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Pete responds automatically. “Well, sort of. I don’t know. I think I just need to go to sleep.”

Patrick steps closer as Pete turns his head back to the street. “I want to like, disappear,” Pete continues, “like, get in one of those taxis and tell the driver to take me as far away as possible, and then start over somewhere I’ve never been before.”   


“People would probably recognize you,” Patrick says dryly, trying to bring some humor to the situation because it’s been years but he still doesn’t quite know what to do with Pete when he’s like this.

“I’ll grow a beard,” Pete says, and his voice is light, but Patrick sees the way his shoulders slump again a second later. “Come sit.”   


Patrick does, hesitantly. 

“Seriously, though,” Pete says. “I just, I don’t like being  _ here  _ sometimes, I don’t like being me being here, you know?”

“Not really,” Patrick replies. He makes the mistake of looking down and leans back immediately, stomach churning. 

Pete doesn’t even notice, just leans over and rests his head on Patrick’s shoulder as he blows out a soft sigh. “I guess it’s just like… I feel alone here. And that’s stupid, obviously, because I have Joe and Andy and you and so many other people, but I still feel fucking alone.” 

One of his hands has reached subtly for Patrick’s as he speaks, but Patrick jerks away the second Pete’s hand touches his. “That’s not going to help, Pete, we can’t - I told you that’s not happening.”

“You never said why not,” Pete complains. Patrick can hear the actual dejection below his put-upon voice.

“Because of the band, and because of Ashlee, and because of literally a million other things that we’ve been over before.”

“Ashlee  _ said  _ she’d be fine with it,” Pete mutters, but the battle’s lost and he knows it. “Can I at least hold your hand? I need to feel, like, like, I don’t know. Like I’ve got something here.”

Patrick doesn’t reply out loud; the way he slides his hand into Pete’s is enough. 

Pete makes a soft humming noise, sort of content, and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“Making you come out here, wasting your time, being a shitty friend, pushing… this.”

Patrick shakes his head even though Pete isn’t looking at him. “You don’t have to apologize, okay, I want… you’re not making me be here, you’re not wasting my time, and you’re not a shitty friend. I l-” He stops the words before they spill out, coughing into his elbow like that’s going to make it any less obvious.

Pete’s whole body tenses just enough for Patrick to know that he heard the unfinished sentence, though. “I love you too,” he says. 

Patrick pretends he doesn’t hear. “We both need to get inside soon, it’s getting late and we’re leaving early tomorrow.”

A burst of sirens echoes up from the street, and Pete jumps slightly. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

He manages to pull himself and Patrick up without letting go of Patrick’s hand, and they walk back to the ladder pretending that they’re both not clinging to the other. They don’t speak again until Pete’s stepping out of the elevator onto the floor where his and Joe’s room is.

“Would you run away with me?” Pete asks, one foot and part of his face stuck in the elevator to keep it from closing. 

There are a million sensible answers running through Patrick’s head, but it’s late and sitting under the stars like that has made his brain feel strange and removed (or so his excuse goes), so he says, “Anytime,” and leans in to brush the lightest of kisses across Pete’s lips.

Pete stares, stunned, because Patrick’s almost never the one to kiss him first, and then Patrick’s nudging his foot back through the door with a sad smile. “Goodnight, Pete,” he says.

He doesn’t have time to hear Pete’s reply before the elevator door slides closed and Patrick’s back to watching the floor numbers tick by one by one. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments are rly appreciated!


End file.
